Event Log: Prisoner Exchange (City)

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone in the city
What: The city event log for Prisoner Exchange event
Where: All over the city
When: February 24th-March 3rd
Warnings: None

There's no warning or notice- one moment, you're going about your day and the next, you're suddenly hit by an overpowering wave of happiness. It lasts for several minutes, and during that time, you can do no wrong. Sadness and melancholy are simply emotions that don't exist anymore for you, and it feels like you're on top of the world.

But it can't last forever. Once it fades, it takes everything else with it, leaving a hole where happiness used to be. It feels empty, like you'll never be happy again- and that's simply unacceptable. For the duration of the event, characters will feel the need to try and get that happiness back, through whatever means necessary.

Perhaps it would be easier to manage if it were only that, but a deep-seated feeling of fury also begins to bubble up from Rage's temple, affecting anyone nearby and sending them into a mindless rage of their own. For those who are missing their happiness, it seems as if destruction is the only way to fill that void- so get out there and burn some houses down!

► This log covers February 24th-March 3rd
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If someone kills you, or if you do something really stupid, please let us know here.

Comments

agent maine | closed to shigeru (cw: character death)

[bloodbathing]

[ One month after he left it, Maine finally makes his way back towards the house he's claimed as his own. Between explorations, revelations, and weird "god" shit, it's been a hell of a couple weeks. For the first time in months, he's looking forward to sitting down and doing fuck all for a while.

Well, not quite "fuck all." He's invited Shigeru over to visit. Asked if the other man can resume teaching him sign language. But, compared to back-to-back expeditions and everything else that's been going on, those lessons — usually a source of mild frustration — sound downright relaxing.

Unfortunately, Maine has no idea that his house's proximity to Rage's temple means that it's getting hit by the god's influence. And the moment he steps within the affected area — the moment fury burns through him, hot and familiar and so fucking welcome — any thoughts of relaxation vanish like they were never there.

He doesn't want to rest. He doesn't want to learn how to speak with his hands. He wants to kill. ]

[mysophobic]

[ Shigeru is looking for some relaxation himself. If he's being honest dealing with the Nautilus creatures and everything else going on here it could be stressful, and that meant his tics cropping up, which they definitely have. He's in an unfamiliar and unusual place without his regular comforts or means of destressing so it's only natural that his ocd and tics flare up. Still he's trying to persevere and get through it to the best of his abilities.

Maine asking him to come over for lessons is a very much welcomed reprieve and he's all but happy to. Once he's given the address he'll make his way over completely unawares of the influence that the nearby temple will soon hit him with. The happiness he's feeling is all well and good but there's this intense sort of heat building up beneath the surface that he's not sure he likes. ]

Ianchus Cepheos | OTA | Probably CW later on

[vocarrah]

Ah, that ache came back quickly, like an old friend, to hollow out Ianchus' breast in a way he hadn't expected to feel again. When he hasn't felt that void when he'd found Yusuke gone, he'd been heartened...perhaps, at the very least, he could keep his promise to his friend. Ah, but no, no.

Ianchus had woken up one day with an overwhelming sense of elation, excitement--a feeling this strong was one he hadn't felt in a while. It was as if the oceans were open to him once again, Carrah a sparkling white pearl behind him...

But ah, again, that had gone. Gone all too fast, and now...now he needs to fill what's gone. And so, he falls to that other old friend. Old friends.

Thankfully, the Speakeasy has plenty of them. He nurses a bottle, pouring it into a glass like a gentleman but already having polished off half of it. The alcohol isn't meant to fix things--the alcohol is merely an aid, there to tamp down judgement and care. There's a faint, dark smile across his lips.

If you're there as well, perhaps he'll lean over to you--especially if you're an attractive adult.

"Ah, what's your most shameful secret fantasy?"

Or,

"Why is it, you think, that people so love to complicate relations?"

Or, perhaps,

"Do you know that the opposite of love isn't hate?"

His voice is thick, lilting, but not sloppy or slurred. Still, the suggestiveness is all too obvious there. Ianchus makes no secret of what he's looking for.

((Ayoo Hit me up at vaderetro if you want a different kind of starter!))

[pellameno]

Pell recognizes the man who approaches him and leans in -- he's the one who spent so long in the clinic, way back when they were on the islands. Fell off a cliff, if he recalls, though the name escapes him even though he remembers the injuries. The stranger had been polite the whole time, which is why Pell doesn't pull away. That and just not caring, honestly. He's about halfway to drunk and that's not like him either, but the emptiness is all consuming.

The opposite of love isn't hate, the man tells him, and Pell tilts his head. Curious despite himself where this could be going.

"What is it, then?"

[braveoff]

Well there's a conversation starter. Drake has only just arrived after patrol, and finds himself accosted by Ianchus and his half-empty bottle. He quirks an eyebrow and reaches for the other man's glass to claim a sip, because clearly he needs to catch up here. Not that he expects the alcohol to help the problem, but company might.

"That requires me to have shame. I'm not sure I do about that kind of thing."

[shithefuckup]

"'Cause they're not being honest, duh!"

Of course who'd show up right at that time but Zack? Granted, it's not a place he usually goes to and nor would he ever want to. Yet, after having just gotten back and being awash with a momentary intense sensation, some weird emptiness has been tugging inside him, so much so he's taken to wander aimlessly. What to fill it with, he doesn't even know, but he may as well do something about it.

Even better was a face he's seen before, so he props right up on that chair.

"It's so dumb how people have to dance around shit all the time! I don't understand how anyone can stand having to lie like that!!"

(cw: underage)

[unphase]

[Tinya slides into the seat beside Ianchus. she's feeling . . . not entirely herself, but she hates to make people worry about her, so she's doing her best to keep up her happy, perky facade.

she chose to sit by him on purpose as she figures he'll be a good choice for helping her keep that facade going. he's fun and she enjoys spending time with him, so maybe after a while it won't even be a facade anymore? she hopes.

she hears his first question and giggles]

...well. On one of mother's diplomatic missions to Colu, I know one of the Coluan attaches was into me. We hung out at one of the diplomatic receptions and spent all night talking. And I kind of let him kiss me, too. I didn't let him go any further than kissing, but I kinda wish I had.

[redwinekindofgirl]

['Do you know that the opposite of love isn't hate?'

Not the kind of question that Julie expects to be asked when she's trying to lose her thoughts in the drink in front of her, but it pulls her up enough to make her consider her answer. It definitely occurs to her just how close this guy is standing, but she doesn't yet feel intimidated enough to do something about it.

Julie knows well enough how easily a well-placed elbow can bring a man to his knees.]

Of course it's not. [She replies, brushing her hair behind her ear and lifting her eyebrows up at him.] Love and hate... they're almost the same thing.

[outofthefire]

[he's at the bar, Laura is a bartender. it's her duty to pour the drinks and listen to the life stories of the drinkers. she doesn't mind, most of the time, but today with its sudden rush of joy followed by its crushing sense of loss? well, it's harder for Laura Palmer to keep up the picture perfect Homecoming Queen smile on her face.

she hears his second question and shrugs slightly]

Because people are complicated, so we make relations as complicated as we are.

red wine. | OTA + closed part

[judgementor]

i. open;; the good

[Red Wine is not human, and is no stranger to the kinds of strengths of emotion that most humans might find entirely overwhelming. Even so, the sudden wave of sheer joy that hits him out of nowhere is enough to make him stagger with not even a moment to think about where it might be coming from.

He feels... amazing, and even his lingering, stubborn annoyance at the fact his brother-in-arms had gone off on a mission without him has been quashed under the pure elation surging through him.

It lasts for several hours. Time that finds Red Wine light-stepped, unusually cheerful, and very willingly helpful to anyone he might come across who looks like they could use some help with something. After all, what makes a Food Soul happier than being able to serve? At its purest, that is what they are made for, and Red Wine has never felt so content to simply be of use.]

ii. open;; the bad

[But it doesn't last. The joy fades, and though he chases it, he can't find his way back to it. At first, it doesn't seem fair. He doesn't immediately connect it to some mischief of Hadriel and even when he does, the fact doesn't seem to matter. He becomes quickly sullen and irritable, and every prior annoyance comes flooding back to him entirely magnified by his poor mood.

It isn't unhappiness. No, he couldn't call it that. It's not a feeling, but a loss of a feeling, and it aggravates him all the more that in fleeting, quickly-quashed thoughts he finds himself wishing that Steak was there to offer some distraction. A mirror to the previous day he is waspish and sharp-tongued, greeting everyone who looks his way for just a few moments too long with an irritated--]

What do you want?

iii. closed to Steak;; and the ugly

[Straying too close to Rage's temple was an accident; a mistake that he could not have anticipated the effects of. The anger had filled up that emptiness in him before he had realised it, and swiftly became an all-consuming, uncontrollable rage.

Food Souls were created to help humans, but they were also created to fight. Red Wine is no exception to this. The dark threads of fury seep in and bring up every tiny annoyance, every small irritation, and they latch onto that subtle but very real sensation of how dare he abandonment that Red Wine has been nursing since Steak's departure. They bring all of it to the fore, and the result is a narrow but obvious trail of destruction through the city. A sword-scrape across a wall here, a shrub or rock slashed in half there, clear signs for somebody who knows how to read them.

But he can't shake it. He can't rid himself of it, and it buzzes through every inch of his mind like a kicked hornet's nest. The entire city stinks of blood, sunk into every stone, every patch of earth-- why couldn't he smell it before?

When Steak finally tracks him down he's pacing like a caged animal with his sleeves lightly covered in brick-dust, and blood is dripping slowly from clenched fists from where his fingernails are embedded deeply into his palms.]

closed closed clooosed

[battlebound]

( Steak doesn't notice at first, how there's a space empty next to him while he tries to provide the people here with the protection and services that Food Souls were designed to. No, he's too busy trying to fill the hollow space inside of him which crows for direction, for a Master Attendant, in a way he hasn't felt since the days immediately after the death of his first.

No one here has the power to summon Food Souls, so instead, Steak throws himself into seeking out some similar purpose. Things to repair, threats to neutralise or eliminate, everything he did as part of the Knights. It's not enough, but it's what he's always done. It's his purpose. How could it fail?

And then... then there's sign one. A patch of destruction, a break in a wall the closer he gets to Rage's temple with the whispers which beckon him to find the unfairness in all of this, to give into the violence which Food Souls are capable of. He could flatten this town if he tried, his strength and swords could shake the buildings and everything else.

Perhaps it's good that the path of destruction winds away from where Rage makes her home, and those urges quickly recede, replaced by the need to know what this is.

...Ah, but doesn't he already? Deep down in his gut, that knot of certainty, the one which has his hand at his sword, ready to strike if need be. )

... Red Wine.

( Dammit.

Well. He has a promise to keep, if it comes to that. )

the happy one because both their weeks are gonna suck

[dedikated]

( The happiness surges the same way the aching misery did when Sorrow died during the invasion, and somewhere deep down Kate knows what it means. That, at the end of it all, Delight was killed anyway.

But it doesn't matter, because the joy which comes with it is like the sun, burning bright through her veins, wanting wanting wanting—

What? Kate's not sure. More. Wanting the wind on her skin and the endless freedom Hadriel offers. She doesn't need to do anything. No rent to pay, nothing to buy, everything on a plate if she just looks. Isn't it fantastic?

That mindset leads her through the city, picking through clothes in the shops with an almost manic intensity. )

C'mere.

( Hey, stranger, you've about the right height. Come help her out. )

Try this on.

ii.

[outofthefire]

[Laura is on her way to the Speakeasy, dressed in her usual style of a sweater set, a plaid kilt, white socks, pennyloafers, and a peacoat. she's not exactly at her best right now but damnit, she has a job to do and she's gonna do it.

at least until she catches the eye of someone she's never seen before. those ears stand out, but he doesn't look like the elves who'd been here.

so when he asks his question, she smiles sweetly and says]

All of nothing. What do you want?

kate; open and possibly closed | cws: violence, possible murder all that good stuff

[dedikated]

( Top levels in comments below! Plotting comment is here and if you want to discuss a closed starter or anything, please get in touch! )

open; speakeasy

[dedikated]

( Delight comes and she goes; a high like crossing the finish line and knowing you were victorious and a crash as violent as a knife to the throat, as sobering as the sight of a loved one's blood sprayed across the floor. The ache spreads through Kate's chest and into her gut, black bile and poison birthing familiar cravings.

To get out of her head. Out and away from this nothing, this bleak, empty space within her like her late teens and early twenties come back in full force.

Alcohol beckons with a familiar, numbing claw, with the promise of forgetting anything but the immediate and half-blurred memories of too many nights turned to laughing and bad decisions with a what's it matter twist.

What does anything matter here, after all. )

Tequila.

( She drops down at the bar without paying attention to the presence of anyone nearby, and then adds; )

... Make that a bottle.

( A shot isn't going to cut it right now. )

open; streets & rooftops

[dedikated]

( Sometimes, even alcohol isn't enough. (And, other times, the bartenders cut you off before you drink yourself to death.) Sometimes the rush of dizzying heat doesn't do enough to make you forget the claws of the abyss of emotion.

Sometimes, a girl needs cold air pricking at her skin and the whistle of the world blurring past her. Kate is a streak of pink in the streets, winding around curved paths at speeds which have her lungs burning and her eyes watering as she cuts through the city and jumps onto the rooftops, bouncing from one building to the next.

Whether she's up top or down below, anyone whose eyes land on her during the few moments she isn't moving will get the same offer; )

Race me or fuck off.

( Her muscles protest after all this movement, but she has to keep going. It takes everything else away. )

open; rage's influence | cw: violence

[dedikated]

( The move to love's housing had been a practical one, where the small studio house was far more convenient than the extra space of the apartments here. She never did like too much space, how hard it is to fill a home by oneself.

The single room and bathroom is enough, but today she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.

At least, that's how it starts. A mild irritation, curdling in her gut, which cools and freezes over until glares become stares, until curled fists loosen and it's easy to think she's calmer than she's ever been. Easy to mistake the tilt of her head for greeting or curiosity, to mistake the knife she twirls in her fingers for habit. )

Do you ever realise none of this matters?

( But there's something so off in the way she speaks. So precise. So even. The way she doesn't blink as she walks closer, dark eyes never wavering. )

closed | cw: murdertimes

[dedikated]

( Should she, really, be surprised that she found Ianchus on the way towards the hot springs?

No. And she isn't. But nothing really surprises her. Not right now. Surprises are distractions, and she has a mission. Or, at least, that's how it feels for now.

If she breaks enough of this place, everything should come undone, right? Things will happen. Or, at the very least, she'll no longer feel so confused about things. It is, after all, all their fault.

Each and every person here who makes it harder to want to go. Every person who treats this place like a holiday and a home... She's behind Ianchus with a knife to his throat before her thoughts even finish. He's one of them, always relaxing, throwing parties. Playing at this like it's a game.

She hates that. )

Peter Parker ; OTA (and also a closed prompt for Tinya what up)

[itsnotaonesie]

Happy Happy Joy J-- aw man:

[So yeah? That trade? Well Delight's dead as shit now so that went just about as bad as it possibly could have gone. He'd been probably liiiiike three seconds away from maybe trying to punch Fear in the head or something, but it turns out that being hit with an overwhelming wave of happiness is... well, pretty overwhelming. So, there was no punching, but there was some leaving immediately to freak out away from other people-ing. So that was fun.

In the days that follow, Peter throws himself into his work with reckless abandon. He spends his days patroling and his nights at the lab, not stopping in at home for more than a few minutes at a time. Is it just a super unhealthy coping method or is he just trying to fill this horrible void in his heart or whatever with things he likes doing? I mean at this point it could literally be either one.]


Rage Adjacent: DANGER ZONE but no really don't go over there!!!!

[All that patrolling he's been doing eventually has him rolling into the Rage zone, and them immediately back out because his spider-sense has decided that THIS FEELS SUPER NO BUENO. The area is just vibrating with bad news bears, and Peter has no goddamn idea why. There's just this invisible barrier of NOPE that he's really anxious about crossing, sooo what he's gonna do instead is skirt the edge of Rage's anger bubble and try to convince people that things are nutty butter up in here. In fact he's pulling you over right now HALT ]

I know this sounds crazy, but something feels like, really off about... uh. The air? I have no idea, but somethin's just, like. I dunno, off.

[Yeah that's sure to convince people]


Speakeasy, Closed to Tinya (cw: underage drinking)

[He'd promised Tinya that he'd go with her to the Speakeasy when he got back from Nate's expedition, and despite the fact that his entire brain was full of all the fuck lately, he intended to make good on that promise. What he couldn't promise was that he'd actually be good company for this hang sesh, but he was going to give it his best shot. He attempts to make himself somewhat presentable and heads over, waiting for her at the door because he's nice that way.]


Fuck this shit i'm OUT March 1st-3rd

[JUST WHAT IT SAYS ON THE TIN, Peter's had enough of EVERYTHING and has decided to do the smart thing and just. Y'know. Avoid all of his problems like an adult. Or something. He's heading out of town and setting up camp and living in the snow for three days. Well okay he's mostly sleeping in a tent and playing with a camp fire, but he's totally willing to share said camp fire with anyone else who decides that camping way the hell out in the snow is preferable to being in sadness city. Tiny camp village, anyone?]

HIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE

[shithefuckup]

[Super convincing. Totally believable. Heck, so much so that it's enough for Zack to turn away-

Oh, who is anyone kidding. It's Zack, and him being him? He's definitely gonna squint at Peter.]

Wow, that sure fucking helped. [A snort.] Like what is it about the air? Why the hell do you think it's off?

Oscar | OTA | Will Match Format

[onlyanautomaton]

Like so many others, Oscar is placed in an irrational state of contentment. He isn't normally consumed by thoughts of no consequence to their current predicament, yet here he finds himself thinking about what awaits him in his own world following his time in Hadriel. He becomes pleasantly lost in that reverie, paying no mind at all to the reality of his situation.

During this time, the mere notion of the continuation of his journey with Kate Walker is of great comfort to him. His fears concerning the possibility that she may one day be brought through the Door are gone; so, too, is his worry that the authorities might locate them before they have managed to cross the border.

She won't know what has happened in Hadriel... nor will he.

He shall return to his primary function.

*

He does nothing but work to make up for what he perceives as lost time. He mustn't dwell on what amounted to an artificial sensation that simply came about as a result of Delight's death. Setting aside the memory of it after a long period of feeling naught but fear, however, turns out to be far more challenging than it first seemed.


[ooc: Oscar can be found searching the shops for potential clinic supplies, inside the clinic itself with supplies in tow/doing odd jobs, inside or around the fire station, dropping off strips of sheer material at the sewing shop, or somewhere on the path between these places. If you have anything else in mind, let me know through PM (this journal) or by contacting me at onthelam or onthelam#1730. ♥]

[theweakhavepurpose]

Pratt is going through the stores for supplies like normal, but his heart isn't in it. What's even the point really? He'd been even more morose than usual following the crushing wave of what seemed like the only time he'd been happy in years being wrenched from his grasp.

He halfheartedly picks up a can of something and looks at the ingredients, putting it back on the shelf without even realizing he didn't actually read any of that. Someone else is there, but he's not feeling exceptionally talkative today.

"Hey." Not much of a greeting, but it's what he can muster given the circumstances.

poison. | ota

[writtendestiny]

[The joy is like nothing she's ever felt, and she knows immediately that it isn't hers. Still, it's hard not to enjoy it, and everything seems just that little bit brighter as she walks through the city with a small black cat winding around her feet and another, far more cephalopod-like feline tucked inside her jacket to keep the creature from drying out or being hurt in the cold.

Even as the feeling begins to fade, Poison does what makes her happy. She finds places to sit around the city, in the residential areas and around the shops, and she draws. She doodles people as they walk by her, and makes more detailed sketches if they happen to be sitting or lingering nearby engaged in some activity. Her drawings are careful, detailed, and she focuses on them with a fierce intensity.

If someone happens to have something unusual about them - horns, elf-ears, interesting scars, a nonhuman shape - they gain all the more attention from her.

As time wears on, she finds she struggles to concentrate on simply drawing. She approaches people, here and there, her sketchbook held under her arm and both cats tucked snugly inside her coat, and asks them; 'What's the most important thing you've done with your life?']

[itsnotaonesie]

["What's the most important thing you've done with your life?" is a very good question, and Peter would answer it if he wasn't thoroughly distracted by something completely different.]

Oh, hey. Your lumps are wiggling.

[He's referring to the Y'KNOW, CATS that Poison has tucked inside of her coat, but. Phrasing.]

Washington | OTA & closed

[hardwearing]

start of event, OTA

The wave of happiness is very not-Wash-like, and with the intensity of it he knows instantly that something's gone wrong. This is Delight, pure Delight, an effect that he hasn't felt since before her betrayal but concentrated, more than ever before and then... then it's gone. And the emptiness, well, that's familiar. He's been down this road before, and it didn't end well for him. Would have been the end of him, even, if not for a group of people who there are only a few of here now. So Wash, finding himself actually wanting to claw his way out of the pit again if he can, tries to keep busy. He seeks out company as much as possible, but there are times he's alone. In those moments, he clings to the things that used to bring him happiness or at least purpose before this. He can't go skateboarding with all the snow on the ground right now, but he can use that snow in building an obstacle course -- tall columns to weave between, ramps to slide down, tunnels to crawl through. It's something to do, it might even be fun! At the very least it's a good workout.

3/1, closed to bluehaus

The thing is, Wash is thoroughly down in the dumps because of more than this event -- first there was the discovery at the experimentation-torture bunker, then he came back to find Julie was missing, then the exchange happened and Delight's death took its toll, then Carolina disappeared... he's not the happiest person to start with and is now a bit of a wreck, efforts to feel better all failing. The least he can do is keep to his schedule. He armors up to train this afternoon as usual, and.... there's an alert flashing on his HUD. A recovery beacon, activated a few hours ago. Agent Maine.

"What the fuck..? No....... no no no no no--"

[evocation]

In comparison, Kyna is doing much better. She's being incredibly clingy and eating far too much comfort food, but other than that, she's trucking along. She's also not entirely pleased that Wash is going out to train, but she's trying not to be a total basketcase, so she mostly focuses on scritching behind Olympia's ears while he does it. The clear shock in his voice makes her head snap up, and she's up off the couch before she can even really process it.

"What? What's wrong?"

Nagito Komaeda | OTA

[hoperulesdespairdrools]

[It was such a bizarre sensation. At first, Komaeda felt overjoyed. So much so that he almost could cry with happiness......and then it went, leaving him with this familiar feeling.....one of emptiness and despair.

He had to go and seek his friends out. The people who made him feel like he mattered and that he could actually do something worthy for. Then maybe this feeling would go away.

And so, Komaeda could be found, either wandering around looking for people like Akira or Drake. If you're not any of his friends then he'll tap you on the shoulder. Even if you're busy doing something else and not wanting to be disturbed] I'm sorry to be in your way but I was just looking for some people.

[Or if you are one of those people, then he'll tap you on the shoulder when you're busy anyway. If you're cleaning he'll nab your broom and start doing it himself. If you're busy training, he'll get in the way. If you're sitting reading a book or at the Speakeasy, he'll sit on the chair right next to you.]

Ah, there you are! At least I've found you!

[isochrone]

You've... found me?

[ Elizabeth is surprised; she hasn't had the chance to meet him yet. She automatically marks her place in her book - reading is the only thing that makes her feel calm and not lost in despair right now - and looks at Komaeda in surprise. ]

I'm sorry, do we know one another?

shigeru miyata | ota

[mysophobic]

Before March 1st | ota

[ Well the inexplicable joy and delight he felt for those few seconds was actually amazing. But it came and gone so fast that it's like a whiplash of emotions for him. It's a feeling that he needs and wants to have back. So he's trying everything he can to replicate it to an extent. That means cooking and drawing, his two favorite pastimes. But even as he sits there and draw nothing really seems to...stick. He'll frown as he stares at the pieces of paper he's managed to scrounge up in this place, a frown planted deep on his features.

Since drawing isn't working maybe cooking might? He's not really sure but he might get up and start to pace a little as he thinks on what exactly he can do. ]


After Maine's death | ota
[ After Maine's death he'll simply remain in the surrounding vicinity of Rage's temple. Whether you catch him right after Maine's death or several hours afterwards it's really clear Shigeru is messed up. His gate, looming behind him now with black tendrils snaked through it, is dripping this black ichor that sizzles and disintegrates the ground it falls upon. His shadow is strange as well, long black tendrils remain affixed to the ground sprouting from his shadow but they move as if alive and with a mind of their own.

He doesn't seem to have a destination in mind as he drags a bloodied sword in his gloved hand as he walks. Each breath he takes, poisonous miasma spills from his mouth, but he hardly seems to care or give it any thought. He really just wants to kill, fight, destroy as he was made to do. It's best to keep your distance, or don't, but he will fight if you do engage.

ooc; If you want your character to run in Shigeru please contact me on plurk @ pathogenic to hash something out! ]

before 03/01

[toiletseat_girl]

[George, too, was hit with the wave of euphoria followed by the crushing loss. she can cope with it a little better as she's been depressed for years and loss is something she's intimately acquainted with. but. it still sucks.

whatever.

she decides to head to the Speakeasy to maybe have a drink and finds that mute guy from Newt's catch and release thing pacing back and forth.

it's just weird enough to comment on]

Hey. You okay?